Chapter 7 (of 8)Holiday 2005

My friends and Brid and Marc Torrades from Sligo have an apartment in Argeles sur Mer which is on the Med and about 20kms from Spain.

The history of Argeles is interesting, this whole stretch of coast was plagued my mosquitoes who bred in its many lagoons and consequently was never developed like the Cote d’Azure was.
In the ‘50s the government of the time sprayed extensively with DDT.
This got rid of the mossies and then they decided to have an input into the kind of resorts they wanted.
Argeles is a very deliberate working class resort. Planning decreed no high rise, and also insisted on an extremely high proportion of camp sites to houses in the development plan.
There are a very few old houses on the sea front

but the place is at heart a modern seaside resort with a magnificent endless beach to the south and the grandeur of the mountains to the west.

And they did manage to have a Foire des Brocantes while I was there

The Apartment was most comfortable with a large airy terrace

With plenty of space for yours truly to write, in long hand, his journal
(of which you are now getting the much edited version)

Commercial Break
If you want to rent the apartment you can contact Brid at torrades@eircom.net

It is also a brilliant centre for exploring the area.
Just down the road is the fishing village of Collioure where Matisse and Derain painted many of their Fauvist pictures and where one of my heros, the naval novelist and mock Irishman Patrick O Brian lived most of his life.

They still have the same little fishing boats in the port as they had in Matisse’s day

And have so many arty crafty types in the, very appealing, village that even the drainpipes are hand thrown,and glazed, faience.

We also struggled over the foothills of the Pyrenees
(On the way having the windiest picnic ever)

To the equally attractive town of Ceret, with its marnificant, Picasso endowed, Modern art Gallery

Where we managed not to get served in the café where he used to have his morning coffee

At the end of this week Una and Martin went home
But before they went they took the only photograph of the holiday of the two of us together.

Then we too headed back on our 1200 klm trip to Cherbourg and home.